The Gods Are to Blame
by AlexisPryce
Summary: They sang sad songs of woe, mourning the lost one. The one who had died so young.
1. Attraction

RATING: PG-13, a little bit of angsty fury, but nothin you bitty Angel fans couldn't   
handle.  
FEEDBACK: I love feedback. Hit the little review button or drop me a line at   
starberrydreamer@hotmail.com.  
IN A NUTSHELL: I actually wrote this a few weeks ago, but never posted   
because I like to finish the story before I post (to avoid posting backups). I went through and edited it to coincide with 'Waiting in the Wings' and the relationships that flowered there. G/F, A/C, eventual W/F, but no Groo...I don't know him enough to really write him. Mostly Wesley's lament. And now, I lay my newest story upon the board...  
  
The Gods are to Blame  
  
Cordelia's eyelids were heavy. She let them close for only a second before they snapped back open. She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. Looking down, she smiled and stroked the soft hair atop the sleeping babe's head. She leaned down and kissed his forehead.  
  
"Sleep well, kid." She stood up, grateful that Connor had gone to sleep and she could finally get to bed herself. She pulled down the corner of the covers in Angel's bed and sat, kicking off her shoes. She yawned and laid down, closing her eyes.  
  
Angel quietly stepped into the room. He looked around, seeing Cordy in his bed. He smiled and walked towards Connor's crib. The baby boy smiled up at him and giggled. Angel lifted a finger and shushed the child. Connor's giggle was suppressed to a smile as his father lifted him from the crib.  
  
"Let's give Aunt Cordelia a rest, huh?" He whispered as he carried Connor from the room. He shut the door behind him, making only the tiniest click.  
  
Cordy rolled over, sleep having consumed her. She yawned again and mumbled softly in her sleep, as if dreaming.   
  
"Wes...leave...no..." She mumbled. The words flew away, never to be heard by ears, living or dead. She rolled over again and cuddled against the pillow.  
  
***  
  
Wesley had never been the staring type, but there was something about Fred. She captivated him. Every move she made spoke volumes to him. He smiled to himself as she bent to pick up a paper that she had dropped. Fred turned and caught Wesley's eyes with hers. The two quiet souls blushed, their red faces screaming in embarrassment. Fred turned back and continued with her business, ignoring the impulse to say anything. Wesley removed his glasses and cursed himself, suddenly remembering why he was not the staring type.  
  
The back door slammed shut and footsteps came down the stairs. Recognizing the pattern of the walk, Wesley directed himself into his office and shut the door, leaning against it. With a sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and thought bad things to himself. He sat for only a moment before finally deciding it was childish to pout. Wesley stood and opened the door, his eyes landing on Fred. She was across the room, her arms flung around the back of a man's neck. The man was tall and muscular, his dark brown skin contrasted with her milky-white complexion. Charles Gunn lifted her off her feet for a moment as he kissed her, causing her to giggle against his lips.   
  
Wesley closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. He remembered the first time he'd seen them together.  
  
***  
  
Fred was dressed in a beautiful burgundy gown, her hair up on top of her head. A few curls dripped from the bun on the back of her head. She sat across from him, wrapping his wound. She was almost to tears.  
  
"...one last kiss..." Gunn whispered.  
  
Their lips met, shattering Wesley's heart. He walked away, not being able to watch it any longer. The sword he carried fell to the ground with a metallic clamor. Then it was his turn. He fell to his knees, in a rented tux. He couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He had lost her.  
  
***  
  
After neither of them noticed him, he cleared his throat. His face was bright red, but this time, it was not from embarrassment.  
  
Fred jumped first, but Gunn held onto her. His arm was draped lazily around her waist.   
  
"Oh, hey Wes. Didn't see ya come in." Gunn smiled.  
  
Wesley nodded with a forced smile. Ever since Gunn and Fred had started dating, Wesley had become a man of few words - with everybody. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, every thought on his mind would fly out and he'd lose all his friends, colleagues, and Fred. He'd lost Fred's love, but he wouldn't be able to bear losing the sight of her. Her soft brown eyes, the curls of brown hair that cascaded down her back. He'd only held her in his arms but a few times, but Wesley still knew that her skin was soft as rose petals. She smelled of soft lavender and jasmine. A scent that Wesley hadn't smelled since he had journeyed as a child to Tibet with his father...his father. All of the hatred that was bottled up about his father made the heartache worse every time he saw *his* Fred in the arms of *that* man. He nodded again.  
  
"I'll be in my office if you need me," he said quietly. He turned around and headed back into the office, closing the door behind him.  
  
Gunn turned back to Fred and smiled, lowering his lips to hers again, brushing against them gently.  
  
"Where were we?" He whispered.  
  
Fred pulled from Gunn's grasp. "Charles...there's something wrong with Wesley." She wrung her hands nervously.  
  
"Of course there is. He's British." Gunn chuckled to himself. When Fred didn't respond, he frowned. "I was kidding, Fred. I love Wes...he's like my brother. But I think maybe he's just having conflicts with his family again. You know he doesn't like to talk when he's having problems."   
  
Fred nodded, but didn't listen. She sighed, wrapping her arms around her body. She rubbed her arms nervously.  
  
Gunn rubbed his lover's back gently. "Believe me, he's fine. Just give him some space." He brushed some of her soft brown curls to one side of her neck. He leaned down and kissed the exposed side. "And when he's feeling better, we'll tell everyone the good news."  
  
Fred turned around with a slight smile. "Yeah...yeah. We'll do that." Her smile brightened and she kissed his cheek.  
  
Angel walked in, Connor in his arms. The baby boy kicked and giggled as his father tickled his tummy.   
  
Fred sighed, leaning against Gunn's body. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Fred couldn't believe how happy Angel was when he was with Connor. She'd seen many fathers with their children, but none were this happy. Like all children, Connor was a blessing. Unlike most children, this particular blessing had been born to two parents who had no pulse. No life. Connor was a miracle rather than just a blessing.   
  
Angel looked up. "This guy gives his Aunt Cordelia fits." He hoisted the child up over his head with a smile. "Don't you?" He laughed and nuzzled the baby boy's nose with his own.  
  
"He gives us all fits. We're tryin' to sleep on late nights out and he cries enough to wake the dead." Gunn laughed.  
  
"He does, technically." Fred giggled.  
  
Angel sniffed the air for a moment. "Whoa...you need changed." He took the baby in his little Notre Dame sleeper back towards his room.  
  
Gunn watched Angel leave, wondering what Fred was thinking about. That baby had changed all their lives. They'd never be the same. Gunn didn't see how something that only cried and needed changed all day was such a big deal. It was a baby. The only thing it caused was more trouble. He shrugged and walked to the refrigerator for a drink. 


	2. First Impressions

Fred rolled her head around, working out a few kinks. It had been a late night, and she was ready to turn in. She grabbed a water bottle from the desk where she'd left it and took a sip of the not-so-refreshing, luke-warm liquid. The front door opened quickly. In rushed a young-looking blonde-haired woman. She wore a slinky red dress that accentuated her curves and black stiletto heels which made her legs seem to go on forever. She flipped her rain-damp hair out of her face and adjusted the purse that hung from her shoulder.  
  
"Hi...umm...this is Angel Investigations, right?" She asked.  
  
Fred looked towards Gunn, who's eyes were glued to the woman's body. She frowned, looking at her own. He had said before that she needed to gain a little weight. She was too skinny, and she wanted to make him happy. Looking back at the woman, she wondered if that's what he wanted her to look like.  
  
"Yes it is." Fred smiled despite her deep thoughts, "My name is Fred. How can I help you?" Fred stole another glance back at Gunn, who hadn't moved yet. She wasn't even sure if he had blinked. "And this is my...*associate*, Charles."  
  
Gunn snapped to attention. "Huh? Oh, right. Hi, you can call me Gunn." He extended his hand to the woman who simply placed hers in it daintily and waited for him to kiss it.   
  
"Pleased to meet you, Gunn." Her eyes wandered over his body as her lips curled into a sly smile. "My name is Clarice. You can call me Clari."  
  
Gunn nodded, in a daze. Fred extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Clari."  
  
Clarice looked at Fred's hand and raised her nose into the air. "Clarice, please...Miss Fred." Her smile faded.  
  
"Oh." Fred smiled and tucked some hair behind her ear. "Sorry, Clarice."  
  
"I've come to..." Clarice's eyes wandered over to Wesley, who was exiting his office, his nose in a book. "Why, hello." She grinned.   
  
Fred cursed her heart as it twisted with a twinge of jealousy.   
  
Wesley looked up and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh...Good day." He smiled, then stuck his nose back in the book and wandered up the staircase.  
  
Fred watched Clarice's gaze follow Wesley up the stairs and turned a deep shade of red. She looked at the floor and took a few deep breaths, wondering why she was acting like this. She was in love with Gunn, not Wesley.  
  
Clarice turned back to Gunn and Fred, her words directed mostly at Gunn. "I'm looking for a private investigator who will find out who murdered my husband." She retrieved a file from her purse and handed it to Gunn. Fred looked over his shoulder at the photographs and documents that were inside. The man had dark gray hair and glasses. His cheeks were especially rosy and his nose had a little ball on the end of it, which made him look like a Norman Rockwell Santa Claus. He had a jolly smile and a well-fed waistline. Fred guessed he was in his late fifties to early sixties.   
  
"He was the best husband anyone could ever ask for." She said with a sigh.  
  
"We'll do what we can." Fred said softly.  
  
"Well...I was looking to spend some time alone with two...or three...specific investigators." She grinned widely as Angel entered the room.  
  
"Oh." Fred turned and walked away slowly, getting the hint. She walked up the stairs and to her old room.  
  
As Angel introduced himself, Fred locked herself in her old cave. She closed her eyes took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. Without a victory, she pulled her bed out from the wall. She reached underneath and freed a permanent black marker from its duct tape prison. Where the bed had formerly met the wall, she scribbled on it relentlessly with one hand as she scratched at the paint to find her old words and formulas with the other.  
  
***  
  
Wesley tried to rub his eyes, but found his glasses in the way. He took them off and wondered where he was. After replacing the glasses on his face, he blinked and looked around. His neck was sore and stiff. As he rubbed the back of it, he realized he'd slept in his desk chair. He yawned and stretched a little, noticing the blanket that was draped across his lap. He frowned and lifted it, inspecting its color, shape, and size. Without recognition, he smelled it. Lavender and Jasmine. He smiled and stood up, getting an another good stretch before walking out of the office. He climbed the stairs, blanket in hand, and he stopped outside of Fred's door. He went to knock, but noticed that the door was already slightly open. He pushed the door open with ease and walked in quietly. He knelt next to her bed, watching his goddess sleep. Some of her hair had fallen in her face during the night. Wesley gently brushed it behind her ear, hoping not to wake her. He stood and draped the blanket over her sleeping body. With a smile, he knelt down and kissed the top of her head, her soft lavender sent drifting into his nostrils. He walked from the room silently as he had come and shut the door. 


	3. Crazy Little Thing

Cordelia was up early, making waffles. Gunn strolled in the door, whistling. He took a bite from the apple in his hand and munched on it.  
  
"Good Morning," Cordy smiled.  
  
Gunn nodded and waved with the other hand, which held a newspaper. He swallowed and smiled. "Good morning." He sat down and continued whistling only taking breaks to take bites of the apple.  
  
"You sure are in a great mood," Cordy said, sitting down across from him with a plate full of waffles.  
  
"Well, I have a feeling that today will be a great day." He grinned widely.  
  
"Oh really? Something involving Fred, or not?" She took a bite of syrupy waffle.  
  
"Fred? Umm...no..." He lied and turned away, sticking his nose in the newspaper.  
  
"Y'know...one of the greatest side effects of this demon thing is being able to tell when someone's lying." She said after chewing.  
  
Gunn folded his paper and laid it on the table. "Just don't worry about it, Cordy. You'll probably find out soon enough." He sighed, standing and heading towards the stairs.  
  
Cordy shrugged and went back to her waffles.  
  
***  
  
Wesley closed his eyes and let his head fall against the wall. The near-scalding water pounded relentlessly on his back. Steam from the shower cleared up his sinuses and his thoughts, even though it was no use. Every thought that ran through his mind was of her. They were all clouded together during the day, jammed into desperate dreams at night. That was, when he slept. Usually, when he slept, it was due to over exhaustion. When he ate, it was because his body would shake with hunger. Even then, he didn't eat much.  
  
Wesley stepped out of the shower as the remnants of a mind-clearing moment trickled down the drain. His ribs protruded slightly from his chest. He touched them as he looked at his dwindling in the mirror, half-clouded by the fog that hung in the air. Every move he made had to be forced, encouraged by the tiny bit of his brain that wasn't thinking of Fred. After wrapping a towel around himself, Wesley called in sick and crawled into bed. The ceiling wouldn't make his heart ache quite as much.  
  
***  
  
Fred finished combing her hair and gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror before she left her small bathroom. She reached for the doorknob in her room, but it opened before she could touch it.  
  
"Hey," Gunn said as he poked his head in the door, "Want some breakfast?"  
  
"Umm," Fred bit her lip, "I guess."  
  
"C'mon." Gunn took her hand with a smile. "It'll be a celebration breakfast. Today's the day, Fred."  
  
She forced a smile. "Yeah...today."  
  
Cordy hung up the phone. "That's odd."  
  
"What's odd anymore?" Gunn asked, walking down the stairs hand in hand with Fred.  
  
"That was Wesley," she frowned, "He's sick. Wesley's *never* sick."  
  
"Sick?" Fred raised an eyebrow.  
  
Cordy nodded.  
  
"This is the same man who came to work two days after he was shot and a day after his girlfriend left him?" Gunn asked.  
  
"Yeah...that's what I don't understand." Cordy bit down on a perfectly manicured fingernail.  
  
Fred grabbed her coat. "I'd better go check on him."  
  
"What about breakfast?" Gunn asked.  
  
"It can wait." She pulled on her jacket and walked out the door, filled with a surge of confidence.  
  
The room was silent for a few uncomfortable moments. Gunn watched her leave, a crease growing in his brown. The crisp air of the Los Angeles morning curled its icy fingers around him, causing him to shiver. His eyes never budged.  
  
Cordy stood, watching Gunn. She frowned. "What?"  
  
Gunn didn't turn. He took a deep breath. "Love," he sighed.  
  
Cordy rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes...we all know you're--"  
  
"No." Gunn cut her off abruptly. He turned, tears threatening the dams of his eyelids. He saw nothing that was before him, only a re-creation of an earlier scene.  
  
***  
  
"I've come to..." Clarice's eyes had wandered over to Wesley, who was exiting his office, his nose in a book. "Why, hello." She had said.   
  
Wesley looked up and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh...Good day." He smiled, then stuck his nose back in the book and wandered up the staircase.  
  
Gunn glanced at Fred, expecting to meet her gaze, but he didn't. He watched her face, her eyes. They followed him. In that brief second when Wesley's eyes met hers, there seemed to be fireworks between the two of them. Something he'd never even felt with her himself. He watched her body tense as jealousy invaded her heart. The same way Gunn felt at the same moment.  
  
***  
  
He blinked and laughed at the ceiling of the tall Hyperion Hotel, hoping to hide his tears from this faithful friend. "No," he whispered. The tears fell without permission as he looked into Cordelia's eyes, "She loves *him*."  
  
***  
  
Run. That's all he could do. He couldn't stop, he couldn't walk. He could only run. She skipped in front of him, giggling and taunting him all the way. She turned around and slowed to a backwards walk. She beckoned him with her index finger, smiling that beautiful smile that made her whole face light up with joy. And all he could do was run. All he could see was her. And all he could hear was the rhythm of his own pounding feet. The pounding got louder as she called him name.  
  
"Wesley..."  
  
He sat up, dripping with sweat. His body ached, begging for a normal, dreamless sleep. His heart pounded, his breath was choppy and irregular. Then, there was her voice.  
  
"Wesley, please...open the door." She knocked again. As he stared at the door, he was taken back.  
  
***  
  
"Wesley? Wesley...it's me, Fred." She called.  
  
Wesley stood and walked slowly to the door, opening it. Fred stood outside, frowning. She reached up and touched the side of his face where there was a bruise from a fire extinguisher. He drew back.  
  
"Oh...does that hurt?"  
  
He didn't answer. He stood, cursing himself for all the evil he had done to her. To Fred, poor little innocent Fred.   
  
"Sorry...I left a bunch of messages."  
  
"I know...I meant to call you back. I'm sorry." He stopped, tears forming in his eyes. "I'm *so* sorry."  
  
"Wesley, you gotta come back to work."  
  
"How can I?"  
  
"What do you mean? How can you not? You're the boss. We need you...you took a few days off. That's good. We all did...but now it's time to come back."  
  
"Fred, I tried to kill you."  
  
She smiled and shook her head. "That wasn't you."  
  
"How can you know that? Something inside me was forced to the surface. Something primal, something..."  
  
"Do you want to kill me?"  
  
His heart jumped a foot. "Oh, God, *no*."  
  
"It wasn't something in you, Wesley. It was something that was done to you." She sighed.  
  
"I don't know what kind of man I am anymore."  
  
She smiled. "Well, I do. You're a good man. Will I see you back at the office?"  
  
"Yeah." And that was it. She was gone. He shut the door. He slumped against it and cried, like a baby. A child. He was a child. He didn't have the courage to tell her that he loved her, that he'd never hurt her. Nothing in the world was more important than her...and he couldn't say it. He didn't even invite her in.  
  
***  
  
Wesley stared at the door. He pushed himself up off the bed and picked up his robe, pulling it on. He tied it shut and walked to the door, opening it. There she was, again.  
  
"Hi...Cordy said you were sick. So...I brought you some soup." She smiled. "I'm not very much of a good cook, and since Pylea, I haven't really wanted to cook, so I brought you soup from somewhere else. I got it from that little deli that you like so much. The one that only you and I can ever go to because Cordy doesn't like the way they cut their carrots and Gunn's more of a pizza guy, and you know Angel...blood..." She trailed off. "Sorry...rambling."  
  
He smiled groggily. "I like to hear you ramble." He pulled his robe tighter and opened the door a bit wider. "Would you like to...come in?"  
  
Fred hesitated and looked into his eyes for a minute, then relaxed. "Yes." She walked in slowly and he closed the door behind her. 


	4. Trust

Chapter 4 - Trust  
  
Cordy dropped her fork with a loud *clink*. "She's what?...Excuse me?"  
  
Gunn shook his head. "Anymore, Cordy...I'm less important than he is. They always stay late to study together, she's always watching him whenever he's around, I'm always second."  
  
"I don't think so, Gunn..."  
  
"She hesitates whenever I ask her to do something with me. She even...she took a week to decide..." He sat down on the steps.  
  
"Decide what, Gunn?" Cordy walked over and sat next to him.  
  
He looked at her and wiped a few more tears away. "I asked her to marry me a week ago. She was supposed to make her decision by today, but now she's at English's apartment...changing her mind."  
  
"Listen," Cordy said after a moment, "Fred's a free spirit, but she's also very compassionate. She loves all of us and takes care of us. She's just...motherly."  
  
He thought for a few minutes. "That's another thing."  
  
"What's another thing? You don't like her taking care of us?" Cordy huffed.  
  
"No...I don't care about that," he sighed, "She wants to have kids."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
He stood, running a hand over his bald head. "I haven't told her that I don't, but...kids mean forever."  
  
"And marriage doesn't? Maybe she's just afraid of marriage the way you're afraid of kids. You've only been together for about a year. Give her some more time."  
  
"Maybe you're right." He started to smile.  
  
"And hey...she and Wes are best friends, and maybe that's the reason she's spending so much time with him. I think he's helping her make a decision. He's your best friend, Gunn. You know that. He loves you like a brother. He'd *never* do anything to betray you. Oh, and another thing," She stood and patted him on the back, "I'm *always* right."  
  
***  
  
Fred stood with the soup in hand. There was an awkward moment. "Oh, soup...right." Wesley took the soup from her and turned on a few lights as he led her towards the kitchen.   
  
"Thanks for bringing me this...I really appreciate it, Fred."  
  
"It's no problem, really. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay." Her eyes wandered around the apartment for a moment. "You're not really sick, are you?"  
  
Wesley froze. "Excuse me?"  
  
Fred blushed a little. "Well, I'm sorry to accuse, but you're *always* at the office. Except for after..." She trailed off. "He didn't...come back, did he?"  
  
Still frozen, all Wesley could do was shake his head. "No...no..." He struggled with the words, "And even if he did, I'd kill myself before I'd let myself hurt you again." He gathered himself, ready to tell her what needed to be said. "I -"  
  
Fred blinked and leaned forward a bit. "You...?"  
  
"I - " He wanted to say the words, but they wouldn't come out. What would she say, what would she do?  
  
She swallowed hard and wondered what he was thinking. If only he would say what she wanted him to say. Maybe if she said it first. "I...Wesley...I..."  
  
Before either of them knew it, their lips were pressed together, their arms wrapped around each other. Fred kissed him like she'd never kissed anyone before. And it was glorious. She ran her fingers through his hair and removed his glasses. He planted soft kisses around her lips and up to her ears. Fred let her hands roam around his bare back as she reached down the back of his robe. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him more.  
  
Wesley had never felt like this. Everything was clear. All his problems were solved with one simple kiss. No...it wasn't simple, it was spectacular. She was in his arms now, not -   
  
"No." He pulled away, looking into her eyes. "Gunn." He shook his head breathlessly.  
  
"Gunn..." She whispered in regret.  
  
"I won't betray him...he's my brother."  
  
She closed her eyes and sighed a shaky sigh. "But I don't...I love..." She blinked back a few tears. Her voice returned to a whisper. "I love *you*, Wesley."  
  
Wesley covered her mouth with his and pulled her into a chair with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him deeply. For only a brief moment, Wesley pulled back and looked into her gorgeous eyes with a smile, something he hadn't done in weeks. "And I love you, Fred."  
  
***  
  
Gunn nervously tapped his foot on the cool marble of the lobby.   
  
"Uh, Gunn?" Cordy asked.  
  
"Uh-huh?"  
  
"Could you like...*not* be so noisy? I'm trying to get Connor to sleep. His birthday's tomorrow and he needs his rest for the big day." She smiled down at the baby boy and kissed his nose as she rocked him.  
  
"That's it. I'm leavin'." Gunn grabbed his coat and stormed out the door.  
  
Angel watched Cordelia as she rocked the child to sleep. She hummed a soft lullaby and held him close, but Connor wasn't the least bit interested in sleeping. He laughed and grabbed for Cordy's hair.  
  
"Oh, come on..." She frowned. "Fine, if you're not going to sleep, then try to say my name, like we've practiced."  
  
Connor giggled a bit more.   
  
"Cor-dy. Come on...you can say it. Cor-dy." She smiled.  
  
Suddenly looking serious, Connor squinched his little nose and looked like he was concentrating. "-dy..." He spit out.  
  
She sighed. "Maybe it's too early..."  
  
"Da..dy!" Connor reached for something over Cordy's head. "Daddy!" He squealed.  
  
Angel approached, absolutely beaming. "Hey little guy! You got it!" He picked Connor up out of Cordy's hands and held him with a smile.  
  
"Well...he was close. I was trying to get him to say my name." She stood and straightened some invisible wrinkles in her clothes.  
  
"How are ya?" Angel asked, switching arms. Connor played with the collar of his jacket.  
  
She shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. I really could use a good shopping trip, but Fred's never around. I *totally* need new girlfriends."  
  
Angel just smiled and watched her as she turned and started to file some papers. Connor squealed again, evidently bored with Angel's collar. He held his hands out towards Cordy and squirmed. "Ma!"  
  
Angel raised an eyebrow. He looked at Connor, then at Cordy. Connor looked frustrated. "Mama!" He squealed again.  
  
Cordy turned around and saw Connor reaching for her. "Mama?"  
  
The boy dropped the frustrated expression and laughed. "Mama!" He reached for her again. Cordy stepped forward and took Connor from Angel's arms. "He thinks I'm his mother?"  
  
Angel shrugged. "I didn't tell him you were. I try not to mention his mother around him."  
  
"Where'd you learn that, sweetie?" Cordy asked him. Connor didn't reply. He snuggled up against her and closed his eyes. She looked up again to meet Angel's eyes and didn't say a word.  
  
***  
  
Gunn walked down the hallway and stopped at the door to Wesley's apartment. He went to knock, but noticed that the door wasn't completely shut. He pushed it open and looked around. There were only a few lights on and he didn't hear anything. He crept inside, looking around. He passed through the bedroom. Wesley's clothes were on the floor and the bed was a mess.   
  
"Damn, English...do some housekeeping..." He whispered to himself. He walked through the room and headed towards the kitchen. He came to a complete stop in the doorway. 


	5. Out of the Blue

*Author's Note* This story is in danger of being cancelled due to lack of interest and feedback. If there is no feedback, you will need to go to A Whole New World to read this story. Thank you. -Lexi  
  
  
Chapter 5 - Out of the Blue  
  
Wesley looked up, a spoon full of soup in his hand. Fred sat across from him, reading a book. She tuned a page, not noticing Gunn.  
  
"Well, Good Afternoon, Gunn." Wesley smiled. "Would you like to join us?"  
  
Gunn laughed. "As fun as this looks, I think I'm gonna have to pass. I just wanted to check up on ya...and the door was open." He pointed over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh...it was?" The Englishman raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well...that's not good. I wasn't really expecting company. I haven't cleaned in weeks."  
  
Fred sipped some tea as she looked up at Gunn. She put the mug down on the table. "Hi, Charles. I was just keeping Wes company for a little while. How about some lunch?" She smiled.  
  
"Sure!" Gunn grinned. "You feelin' up to joinin' us, Wes?"  
  
Wesley shook his head and smiled. "Not really. I'm still a little groggy from the cold medicine I took. I should be fine in a couple of hours though. I'll see you tomorrow at work."  
  
Gunn nodded as Wesley and Fred stood up. "I'm gonna go start the car, Fred. Catch up with me in a few?"  
  
Fred nodded. "Sure." She smiled as he left the room. Neither she or Wesley moved until they heard him leave the apartment.  
  
Wesley turned to her. "Fred, listen...if what you said isn't true, then don't think you have to pretend to..."  
  
Fred stepped forward and placed a hand on the side of his face. "I would never lie to you, Wesley. I love you. Remember that." She kissed him softly and stared into his soft blue eyes for a few more seconds before turning and leaving.  
  
Wesley sighed and sat back down, staring at the soup in front of him. He took another bite and smiled. She was his.  
  
***  
Connor was sound asleep in his crib, his breathing steady as his tiny chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Cordelia rubbed his back softly and smiled. "I'm sorry to tell ya this, kid...but I'm not your Mom. I wish I was, sometimes. I wish I had a son just like you." She sighed. "But I won't have one. Nope...not me. Now that I'm half demon, it's impossible." She stopped and frowned. "Okay, so not *impossible* seeing as how you're here, but you know. Nearly impossible."  
  
Angel stepped in behind her, handing her a glass of iced tea. "Nothing's impossible." He sat down next to her and smiled. "Y'know, Cordy...sometimes I wonder...if it hadn't been for Buffy..."  
  
"Would you and I have ever hooked up?" She took a sip of her iced tea. "No."  
  
Angel laughed. "No?"   
  
She shook her head. "I don't go for those dead guys like she does. I dunno...maybe if you had a pulse. Of course, I did have the hots for you for a while. Remember that night in the Bronze where she thought you were with me for the night and she like freaked out and left?"  
  
He nodded. "Yeah, I do. But you were just acting, right?"  
  
"Right."   
  
There was an awkward pause. Angel scooted a little closer to Cordelia. She looked up from the crib and half-smiled. "This is a great kid you got here."  
  
"Yeah, I know...about earlier...did you *like* when he called you his mom?" He asked.  
  
Cordy shrugged. "I suppose I did. I mean...no one's ever going to call me mom, so it's kind of one of those warm fuzzy moments."  
  
Angel nodded with a grin. "Warm fuzzy?" He leaned closer to her.  
  
"Warm fuzzy..." she whispered, also leaning in. She looked down at his lips, then up at his eyes. The silly grin slowly faded as he leaned closer to her.   
  
Angel tilted his head slightly to the side and let his lips run their course. They touched the warmth of Cordelia's own lips and didn't want to let go. He lifted a hand to the side of her face, then slid it around to the back of her neck. He kissed her softly, hoping he could never leave this moment. Spend the rest of his eternity with her.  
  
Cordelia felt something inside her, a new feeling. Almost close to relief. She let her shoulders slump as she kissed Angel, moving closer to his body.  
  
The door opened, and the two near-lovers jumped back from one another, eyes wide. Lorne stepped in, whistling. He looked at Angel and Cordy.  
  
"Woah...what's with the deer-in-the-headlights look?" He took a step backwards. "Oh boy...I'll just...get out of here. After a gander at your auras...I'm *so* sorry for interrupting. Just wanted to see the munchkin!" He stepped back out of the door and closed it.  
  
"What was..." Cordy began.  
  
"...that? If I can remember correctly...it has been quite some time...I think it was a kiss." He rubbed the back of his neck. If he could have blushed, he would.  
  
"Yeah...it was. One hell of a kiss..." She stood and turned, looking at him. "Don't get a big head about it, but it was a good kiss. And I liked it. And...yeah." She was obviously twitterpaited. She turned again and stomped out the door.  
  
***  
  
Gunn sat across from Fred, holding her hand. He gazed into her eyes, looking for any sign of hiding.  
  
"What?" Fred blushed.  
  
"Just you..." He smiled, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "Have you decided yet?"  
  
Fred swallowed hard. What was she going to say? She couldn't say yes...she didn't love him! And she couldn't just tell him that, it would completely devastate him. She squirmed a bit in her seat.  
  
"Here, let me help. Let's make this formal." Gunn stood out of his seat and then kneeled in front of her, pulling a little blue box from his pocket.   
  
Fred's eyes went wide. She scanned the restaurant to see if there was anybody who *wasn't* looking. None. She took a deep breath and tried not to be so obvious.  
  
***  
  
Wesley put the bowl and spoon in the sink, picking up the book that Fred had been reading. 'Famous Demons of the Twelfth Century'. One of his favorites. He grinned and stuck a bookmark in it to where she had left the page open. He threw off his robe and pulled some clothes from his closet. He whistled a little tune as he began to clean up.   
  
The phone rang. Wes frowned, wondering who would be calling him. Fred and Gunn were out at lunch, Cordelia would never call him, and Angel didn't really care. He picked up the phone.  
  
"Wesley Wyndham-Price. How may I help you?"  
  
"Wesley?" That voice...he hadn't heard it in the longest time. "Wesley, it's your mum."  
  
He almost dropped the phone. "Mother?" 


	6. Sorrowful Celebration

The restaurant was deadly silent. Fred wanted to stand up and shoo them all away, but she plastered a smile upon her face anyway.   
  
"Winifred," Gunn asked with a solemn face, "Will you marry me?"  
  
She looked around. Everyone was about ready to fall out of their seats in anticipation.  
  
She nodded, so angry that she couldn't form words. Everyone applauded as Gunn grinned and slipped the ring on her finger. Fred was ready to die.  
  
***  
  
Cordelia sat behind her desk in the lobby of the Hyperion. She nervously tapped her left hand on the desk as her right hand pushed pencil after pencil into the electric pencil sharpener.  
  
"Y'know," Lorne said, walking into the room, "you could write a song with a rhythm like that." He danced around a little. "Tap-tap-tap, whirrr...tap-tap-tap, whirrr..."  
  
"Do we have any more pencils?" She asked, ignoring him. She headed into Wesley's office.  
  
"That was a joke, sweets." No response. "Customarily, or maybe this is just in Pylea, but, people *usually* laugh at jokes."  
  
She stopped for a moment and glared at him. "Ha." Then she continued on.  
  
"So, what's going on? You startin' to discriminate against unsharpened pencils or what? I never knew you as one to have OCD."  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
Lorne shrugged and walked slowly back from where he had come.  
  
Cordy ran out of pencils and tried to think of some other way to keep herself busy. She hummed absently as she tapped her fingernails in thought.  
  
"Ha!" Lorne turned on his heel and walked quickly back in her direction. "You *liked* it!"  
  
Cordelia's eyes went wide. "Did not! My mind's lying again...damn demon mind..." She stumbled.  
  
"No, wait...you *didn't* like it...you *loved* it!"  
  
Her shoulders slumped. "Don't say anything to deadboy about it, okay?"  
  
"Wasn't plannin' on it, Princess." He grinned and walked away. Cordy let her head drop to the desktop.  
  
Wesley came in the door seconds later.  
  
"Cordelia...you all will be able to do without me for a few weeks, won't you?" He asked quickly.  
  
"Sure." She said, her head still against the desktop.  
  
"Good. I'm leaving for England tomorrow. I don't know how long I'll be gone." He ran in his office and grabbed three large books and headed back for the door. "So long...tell everyone that I'll be seeing them when I return, alright?"  
  
"Yeah...fine..." Cordy closed her eyes and zoned out.  
  
Wesley walked quickly out the door and headed for home.  
  
***  
  
Angel sighed and watched his son sleep. He leaned down on the crib and stroked the sleeping babe's back softly.  
  
"How's come your Dad never does anything right, huh?" He whispered. "No matter how hard I try, she always runs away. I want her to be your mom, I really do...but I don't know what that'll do to your Daddy's soul..."  
  
Connor rolled over, his bright blue eyes staring up at his father.  
  
Angel frowned. "You're awake." He picked him up and patted his back softly as he walked in small circles around the room. "What should I do, Con?"  
  
Angel smiled at the thought of himself asking his one-year-old son for advice. Connor whimpered and squirmed, pushing himself away from Angel's shoulder. He struggled until he was looking directly at his Dad. "Mama." He said quietly, then yawned.  
  
A smile crept up on Angels face. "You're right." He placed Connor in his crib and headed down the stairs.  
  
Angel looked around, but didn't see Cordy. He was about to call out for her when the door opened.   
  
"Hey Guys! Where are you?" Gunn asked, pulling Fred behind him.  
  
Angel waved from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm here...I don't know where everyone else-"  
  
"What is it?" Cordy asked, taking a big sip from a bottle of water. Lorne followed close behind.  
  
"We," Gunn grinned and looked down at Fred, "have an announcement to make."   
  
Fred swallowed hard and half-smiled.  
  
"We're getting married." Gunn's smile got wider than Angel had ever seen it.  
  
There was silence for a few moments, then Lorne laughed. "Oh, that's...great!" He grinned and patted Gunn on the back, almost having to shield his eyes from the bright color of Fred's aura. He read Gunn's, which was the color of accomplishment. Getting engaged to Fred? That wasn't much of an accomplishment. Sure...the guy was in love with her, but...  
  
Cordy dropped her water bottle. The clear contents created an aqueous pattern on the floor, spreading quickly at first, then slowing to a crawl. "Yeah...great." She forced a smile, knowing that this would hurt Wesley. Wesley...he had said something earlier...what was it? She felt wetness in her shoe. Looking down, she realized that there was a puddle on the floor. "Oops...better clean that up." She headed for the kitchen, taking the bottle with her.   
  
"Congrats guys..." Angel smiled and followed Cordy into the kitchen. He approached quietly, not wanting to scare her away. Almost as if hunting a victim. Cordy turned and nearly dropped the towel.   
  
"Angel, what do you want?"  
  
He swallowed hard and stepped closer to her. "Cordelia...what just happened was..."  
  
"Get over it, Angel. It was just a kiss. It meant nothing." She pushed past him and headed back towards the lobby.  
  
Angel grabbed her arm and held her tightly. "How many nothings are there going to be, Cordy? Twenty, forty?" He sighed and looked her in the eye. "Remember that night, at the ballet?"  
  
"Angel, we were under a -"  
  
"That was the night I fell in love with you, Cordelia. For a year now, you've tormented me. A kiss here, a touch there. There's only so much a man can take. You kiss me, then you tell me it means nothing. You touch me and you tell me it's just a nudge. I don't believe it anymore. I don't want to...all I want is *you*." He stared into her eyes.  
  
Cordy thought she was going to explode. "Angel, I..." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't be with you. You can't be with me. You think I'm just playing with you? This...passion escapes from time to time and I can't control it anymore. We *both* know that something between us would never work. I'm half demon, you're dead...you're cursed, I'm...Lassie..." She shook her head and wiped the tear away. "I love you too, but it just can't be." She pulled away and he let her go. She wiped her tears with the towel as she went to clean up her mess.  
  
Angel sat down on the chair next to him and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes...it can." 


	7. Sweet Surrender

Wesley neatly folded most of his things and placed them into the suitcases. His mind wandered, a little about Fred, a little about going home, and a little about the conversation with his mother.  
  
***  
  
He almost dropped the phone. "Mother?"  
  
"Wesley, dear," she was crying, "Oh, it's been too long. Hearing your voice again is wonderful."  
  
"Mother? How did you get this number?"  
  
She blew her nose daintily, the way she'd been taught by her mother. "You can get anything through the internet, dear."  
  
Wesley shook his head with a small chuckle.  
  
"Wesley, darling...the reason I'm calling is...your father...he's dying."  
  
Dying? Wesley's mind whirled. Why? How? When? "H-how?" He asked, unsure of what to think. His conscience was arguing with itself. You should be sad...but then again, he put you through years of torment and suffering. He deserves to die.  
  
"Cancer. He'd had it for years, he just didn't want me to tell you."  
  
After a pause, he responded. "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
She also paused, as if taken aback. "Well, you don't want me to live all alone, do you? With your father gone, I won't know what to do with myself."  
  
He sighed. Why did something like this have to get in his way? He was supposed to be with Fred, not have his mother living with him. "It's too dangerous for you here in Los Angeles."  
  
"Oh no, dear...I want you to come and live with me. It'll only be a short while, I promise. Just help me get through arranging for your father's de--" She took a deep breath. "death."  
  
He closed his eyes and removed his glasses, placing them on the small table in front of him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, a gesture that was supposed to relieve stress, but never really worked.  
  
"I would, Mum, but there's...someone here. I'm in love, and I don't want to leave." He smiled at the thought of Fred.  
  
"Oh, I'd been waiting for this...my son, in love. Bring her along! I'd love to meet her!" He could almost see her squirm with excitement.  
  
"When do you want me out there?"  
  
"This week. He's got three days, and I want you here before he dies. Please Wesley...make amends. It'll give him a sense of peace."  
  
He thought for a moment. It might be fun to watch the old bastard die. "If I can get her to go with me, I'll bring her out. I'll call you later with details."  
  
"Yes, call me. Please. Wesley," She paused, "Remember that I love you."  
  
He took a deep breath and let a smile cross his face. "I love you too, mum."  
  
***  
  
Fred sat down on the couch in the center of the lobby and sighed.   
  
"You okay, Fred?" Gunn asked, sitting next to her. He rubbed her back gently with a smug grin plastered across his face.  
  
She looked up at him, almost surprised to hear his voice. "Oh, fine...just...overwhelmed."  
  
"I understand." He kissed the top of her had and stood up. Cordy stepped into the room, followed by Angel.  
  
"Angel, man...I would ask ya to be the best man, but y'know...that whole church thing..."   
  
Angel nodded. "That's okay. Just videotape it for me, okay?"  
  
"Sure thing. Hey, where's Wesley? He said he was feeling better when I saw him earlier...I thought maybe he'd come in." Gunn asked.  
  
Cordelia sat in a crouch on the floor, mopping up the water. Wesley...Wesley...he'd been here...said something... "Oh!" She stood up, her eyes wide. "Wesley *was* here!"  
  
Fred turned around and stared at Cordy. "Was?"  
  
"Yeah...he came in and asked if we'd be okay without him for a while. Said he was going somewhere...England!"  
  
"England?!?" Fred, Gunn, Angel, and Lorne all asked at the same time.  
  
Cordelia blinked and pointed to all of them. "Don't do that again, and yes...England."  
  
Fred stood up and ran out the door.  
  
"Fred! Hey, Fred!" Gunn called after her.  
  
"Let her go, hon. She's probably just double-checking. You know Fred. She'll come back and let you know. Give her some time to say goodbye anyway." Lorne said, lying through his teeth. He felt Fred's panic hit him like a ton of bricks.  
  
Gunn pointed at Lorne. "Don't call me 'Hon' again."  
  
"Woah...sorry, Mr. Defensive." He headed up the stairs. "The kid's much easier to talk to than you all."  
  
"He's right, Gunn...let her go." Cordy agreed, crouching down again to soak up the water.  
  
"Why would Wesley go back to England?" Angel asked.  
  
"Beats me. Maybe some old girlfriend contacted him." Cordy laughed, "God knows the man needs to get laid."  
  
***  
  
Wesley's train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. He folded the last item and pushed it into a suitcase, wondering how he could ever possibly get it shut. He walked slowly towards the door.  
  
Fred stood outside the door, nervously tapping her foot. She knocked again. Her hand...the ring. She tugged at the ring, successfully pulling it off after two tries. She shoved it down in her pocket just as the door opened.  
  
"Fred!" Wes grinned and looked out in the hallway for Gunn. He bent down to kiss her.  
  
Fred pushed him away. "You're going to England?" She walked into his apartment and turned to look at him.  
  
Wesley blinked. "Uh, yes...I wanted to speak to you about that...how did you know?"  
  
"Cordelia." Fred sat down in his desk chair as he closed the door. "You can't go."  
  
"Fred, my Mother wants me to go...my Father's dying."  
  
"You -- " she stopped. "Oh...I'm so sorry, Wesley."  
  
"No, I'm glad to see him go. I'm only going to take care of my mother for a while." He stepped towards her. "Fred, I want you to go with me."  
  
Fred's mouth fell open as she stumbled over her words. "I - I can't..." She frowned and swallowed hard.  
  
Wesley knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees. "I love you, Fred. I want you to meet my family. I already told them that I'd ask you. Please, go with me."  
  
"Wes..." She started to cry. "You don't..."  
  
"Shh," Wesley reached up and brushed some stray strands of hair from her eyes. He stood up and pulled her out of the chair.  
  
Fred looked up at him with watery eyes. "I..."   
  
He leaned down and kissed her, pulling her body close to his. She gave in, wrapping her arms around him. He smiled against her lips. He pulled away and kissed down her neck and ran his hands up the back of her shirt.  
  
"Wesley..." She whispered.  
  
"Yes, darling?"   
  
"Make love to me."   
  
He pulled away from her neck and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"  
  
She nodded and kissed him again as he picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom. 


	8. The Game is Over

Gunn stared at the floor, sitting in the middle of the lobby. He looked again at his watch, only a minute after the last time he'd checked. He sighed and shook his head.   
  
"Hey...why so glum?" Cordy asked, sitting down next to him.  
  
"It's been two hours." The handsome man replied. "I just...I want to go get her. She's mine. Not his. Mine."  
  
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's just a *little* possessive? Fred wouldn't like to hear you say that."  
  
Gunn stood. "Only because she loves him. I'm telling you, Cordelia...she's in love with him. I have to fight to win her."  
  
"Not anymore. He's going away. Possibly for good. We don't know."  
  
"I wish he would. I wish he'd leave and let me have Fred. Just let me have her."  
  
Cordy decided it was time to change the subject. "So, what's this new case?"  
  
Gunn tossed a manilla folder at her. "It's case of dead rich white dude, that's what it is. His wife's half his age, no kids, no pets. No enemies, no friends. Nothing. I can't figure it out."  
  
"Maybe there's something we're not looking at." She opened the folder and scanned over the documents inside. "There's got to be something."  
  
***  
  
Fred opened her eyes and yawned. Her short nap had left her refreshed. She smiled over at Wesley, who slept silently beside her. She stroked his hair as gently as possible, hoping not to wake him. His arm was draped lovingly across her bare stomach. She moved it ever-so-gently off of her midsection and climbed out of bed. She grabbed her clothes and began pulling them on. Something inside her pocket scraped her leg.  
  
"Ow..." She whispered, pulling the object from her jeans. She stared at the sparkling diamond with her thoughts returning to Gunn. She was engaged to Gunn. How could she have done this to Wesley? What would he think if he found out? She shoved the ring back in her pocket and headed for Wesley's desk. She found a pen and paper, on which she promptly began to write.   
  
After nearly ten minutes of careful thought and many drafts, she placed the letter inside an envelope and wrote instructions on the back, leaving his name on the front. She sat down on the bed, placing the envelope on her pillow. His breathing was regular, his dreams seemed easy and beautiful. She leaned down and kissed his forehead softly before slipping out the front door.  
  
***  
  
He was rich. Anyone could have killed him. It didn't have to be someone that knew him. Just someone who thought there was a possibility of getting money. Cordelia carefully scanned the police report.  
  
Name: James Fox  
Age: 74  
D.O.B: January 22nd, 1928  
Occupation: Retired executive manager of Bloomingdale's Department   
Store  
  
Hmm, a former employee, possibly?  
  
Last Residence: 2645 Pine Street, Los Angeles CA  
  
Mr. Fox was last seen walking from his car to his home on January 31st, 2002. There was only one set of footprints, ending where he was last seen. No blood or evidence found by crime scene investigators. Body found two weeks later on Thursday, February 14th, 2002. Cause of death unknown. Body found in dumpster behind McDonald's in Los Angeles, California.  
  
Oh, where was Wesley when you needed him? Or Fred for that matter...  
  
Fred walked in the door, a tear streaming down her face. Gunn stood and ran to her, hugging her tightly. "What happened?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it." Fred wrenched out of his grasp and reached up, wiping the tear away. Gunn grabbed her hand fiercely, a fire in his eyes.  
  
"Where's your ring?" He asked, whispering.  
  
Fred's eyes got wide. She reached into her pocket and put the ring back on her hand. "Here...I didn't want to tell him."  
  
"Why? Afraid that he wouldn't love you anymore, Fred? Is that it?" He twisted her wrist.  
  
"Gunn! What are you doing?" Cordelia jumped between them, pulling Gunn's hand off of Fred's wrist. Fred took off up the stairs, crying some more. Gunn tried to follow, but Cordy had a hold of his arm.   
  
"Let me go, Cordy. She's mine. I can't have her falling in love with him! She's mine!" He pulled out of Cordy's grasp and ran up the stairs after Fred.  
  
Cordelia's brown eyes darted around for some way to stop Gunn. She headed for the weapon closet, pulling out a knife. Quickly, she followed suit up the stairs.  
  
Fred leaned up against her door, breathing heavily. A soft knock sounded.   
  
"Fred? Let me in, please. I'm sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you. I-I can't believe I did it." He sighed and she heard a thump as he let his head fall against the door.  
  
She listened some more, unsure of her next move.  
  
"Alright, back up from the door, Charles...come on..." Cordelia's voice said.   
  
"Hey, listen...I didn't want to hurt her. I'm just a little anxious. Wesley's leaving is affecting all of us."  
  
How dare he use Wesley in his defense. He'd hated Wesley ever since they had kissed ...ever since he...wait.  
  
Fred pulled her journal from the desk next to her and opened it to the day that Charles had kissed her. The day after, an entry was logged stating that Gunn had nearly gotten Wesley killed. She sat down on the floor and ran a hand through her hair. Every single date after that had Wesley nearly dying at Gunn's hand. He was trying to kill him. It was a game. He wanted to defend his prize. 


	9. A Wave of Confidence

Chapter 9 - A Wave of Confidence  
  
Wesley stretched as he sat up, looking around. The room was quiet. He glanced at the clock. Two hours until his flight left. His hand landed on the envelope that rested on Fred's pillow. He turned it over to open it, but found instructions in Fred's delicate and loopy handwriting. "Do not open until airplane has taken off."  
  
He smiled and tucked the envelope in the back pocket of his khakis before he pulled them over his long legs. He watched the very spot where she had given herself to him as he smiled longing to be near her again. After he was fully ready, Wesley set out for the airport.  
  
***  
  
Fred stood and opened her door quietly. Now would be the time that she would break it off. She took off the ring and clenched it tightly in her palm.  
  
"Fred?" Gunn stood. He had been sitting outside her door, waiting for her to open it. "Oh, God...Fred, I'm so sorry." He pulled her into a tight hug and sighed. "I love you, I love you...don't let anything change that."  
  
Fred frowned and swallowed hard. She felt a tear drop on her shoulder, obviously Gunn's.   
  
"Are you crying?" She asked him. She pulled back from the hug and frowned. "Oh, Charles...don't cry. Please." She couldn't do it now.  
  
She slipped the ring on, faking a smile. "There...all better." She sighed and leaned against the door frame as he smiled back.   
  
"Please, don't leave me. I love you too much to lose you." He took her hands. "I want you to be mine forever. I know sometimes I don't act like it and sometimes I...I hit you, but I don't mean it. It's just anger. I get over it. I won't hurt you ever again, I promise." He kissed her softly. She didn't kiss back, but she smiled.  
  
With a nod, Fred walked slowly down the stairs, passing Cordelia. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "We need to talk later, Fred." Cordy whispered in her ear. "And button your shirt right."  
  
Fred looked down to see that her last two buttons on her pink shirt were askew. She casually buttoned them and continued down the stairs.  
  
Gunn caught up with her, tucking a leather-bound journal into his jacket, which she did not see.   
  
"Hey, babe...what do you say you and I go back to my place tonight?" He gave a sly grin and rubbed her back softly.  
  
"I don't think so." She walked away, heading for Wesley's office to do some research on the new client.  
  
***  
As usual, airport security was hell. Wesley fought his way through the metal detectors, getting an awfully interesting look about the 16th century broadsword and crossbow in his suitcase. He shrugged and laughed.   
  
"Gifts." The fact that he wasn't an American citizen made it worse. His weapons were promptly confiscated and he supplied them with an address where they could send them.   
  
He sighed and continued on towards the terminal. Quietly, he wondered if terminal meant that he would never come back. If maybe he would never see Angel or Cordelia or Connor...or Fred ever again. He couldn't bear the thought of not being able to look into those soft brown eyes for the rest of his life or never again hearing her beautifully melodic voice that flowed through the air in its weightless state. He felt himself beginning to tear up, a nagging feeling in his chest. He frowned at the gate, his ticket clutched in his hand. This was it.  
  
Go, no-go.  
  
He stepped forward and smiled at the woman who wore the gaudy blue and red uniform. It was hard to smile, but he did it anyway. He looked into her eyes as he smiled, finding them to be a deep purple. Wesley blinked twice and took another look at her.   
  
She grinned and closed her eyes for a moment, the lids closing horizontally rather than vertically. When she opened them, she shook her head with a laugh.  
  
"Believe me," Her metallic voice said in his head, "you're in for a few surprises. Keep your chin up."   
  
He listened, but did not see her lips move.   
  
"Hey! Get a move on, won't you?" A rather rude woman behind him called.  
  
Broken from his thought, he smiled and continued on. The attendant had been a Gyryshnick demon, usually London bred. They were a kind race of mind-readers who loved to listen to the minds of troubled mortals. He knew that she spoke the truth. His mind cleared as he boarded the plane. As soon as he took his seat, Wesley pulled the letter from his jacket and began reading.  
  
Dear Wesley,  
  
I don't know exactly how to say this to you. It's very hard. I do love you, please don't think that I don't. There are just some things that need explaining. A few hours ago, when Charles and I went out to lunch, he proposed to me. You should have seen it. He knew that I couldn't say no in front of a thousand people in a restaurant. He knew it's not my style to let someone down like that. Now, I've got to break the engagement. He won't be happy, but I know that I have to. My love for you is just too strong to let this marriage happen. Wesley, I hope that someday that will be you and I. Trust me while you're gone as I will trust you. I will sort out myself and get to know what's really going on with me. And with you. I'll break the engagement and eagerly await your arrival. I love you more than anything. Always remember that.  
  
With Love,  
Fred  
  
***  
  
Angel closed his eyes and let the music flow through him, dictating his every indignant move. He didn't hear the footsteps down the stairs or the metallic clink of his sword against stone as he mercilessly beat the wall. The song ended and Angel dropped the sword, staring at the bricks who had just taken such a brutal beating. He felt like crying. Like his whole world was tumbling down. He sat down on the floor and listened as the CD came to its final end.  
  
Fred quietly cleared her throat, hoping not to disturb the silent vampire.  
  
"Hi, Fred." He said, his head in his hands.  
  
"Hi." She smiled, realizing he'd known that she was there. "How are you?"  
  
He stood and turned to face her. "A little shaken, but not bad." He forced a grin and grabbed his shirt from the chair next to him.  
  
"Yeah, I know the feeling. Like I should be happy, but I'm not. There's so many things that I *should* be, but...I can't." She sighed and stood up, walking over towards him. "I'm real confused, Angel. I don't know where to go."  
  
He raised a dark eyebrow. "Confused? About what?"   
  
Fred looked up at the door and pulled Angel to a corner underneath the stairs. "I'm supposed to marry Gunn, but...I love Wesley."  
  
Angel's eyes got wide. "You do?"  
  
She nodded shamefully. "I do. I shouldn't, but --"  
  
Angel wrapped his arms around Fred and squeezed her tightly. "Thank you." He laughed and released her.  
  
Fred made a face. "I suppose it's the thought that counts, but why?"  
  
"Honestly, Fred," He smiled, "You shouldn't be with Gunn. You're not right for each other. When he announced the engagement, I knew you weren't happy from the moment I saw the look on your face. Cordy felt it too..." He stopped.  
  
She observed his face for a few moments. "I feel a little trouble brewing. I suppose that me teaching Connor to call Cordelia 'Mama' was a bad thing..." She watched his reaction. "I'll break the engagement next week."  
  
"You did it?"  
  
She blushed. "Yeah. Remember, kyerumption." She hugged him and walked upstairs.  
  
Angel watched her leave, a new smile spreading across her face. 


	10. Home Again

Chapter 10 - Home Again  
  
Wesley wrote countless letters. Each one received a reply in Fred's beautiful handwriting. They were pages long. And they all smelled like her. Fred wrote about the birthday party and how much fun it had been to watch Connor eat his first piece of birthday cake. She told him of the budding romance between Angel and Cordelia, which Wesley had noticed a long time ago. She told him of many insignificant things, but most of all, she told him how much she loved him. Of how she thought of him everyday and dreamt of him every night.   
  
Wesley sighed at the thought of her. He stared at the one photo of them all, taken shortly after Connor's birth. Angel was a little uneasy looking, probably worried about Connor. Wesley was grinning, his arm around Fred. Fred was leaning towards him, her bright smile matching his. Cordelia was on the other side directing everyone to smile through her tightly clenched teeth. Wesley laughed, remembering that day.  
  
He'd begged Fred for more pictures of her. He argued that his mother was anxious to meet her and that she was sure they'd make an excellent pair. Fred wouldn't send pictures, claiming to be camera shy. He knew she had been before and clearly understood. Being away from her for six months was hard for him. He'd met other girls in London, a few that he'd known prior to leaving for Sunnydale. They seemed interested in Wesley's new badass attitude, but the feelings weren't mutual.  
  
Wes leaned back and placed the picture on the table beside him. He opened a new book and sighed.  
  
"Wesley, dear?" A woman's voice asked.  
  
"Yes, mum?" He didn't look up.  
  
"I'd like to speak with you for a moment if I may." The owner of the voice walked into the room. She was a woman in her late sixties with a bit of bite left in her yet. She grinned at him as he closed the book. "Thank you. I've been meaning to speak to you about this." She sat down on the sofa next to him.  
  
"Anytime, Mother." He propped a pillow against her weak arm.  
  
She sighed and smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. It was cold, but only from bad circulation.   
  
He returned the smile and patted her hand as she retracted it.  
  
"Wesley," she said, "I know how much you love this woman. I know she means a lot to you."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I want you to go back to your Los Angeles and tell her that. Letters aren't enough."  
  
He blinked. "Truly? I mean, you'll allow me to go back to Los Angeles? I don't want to leave you here all alone..."  
  
"Don't worry about this old woman. She'll be fine." She grinned. "You of all people should know that."  
  
He laughed. "Yes, you have been taking care of me."  
  
"Also," she took a deep breath and let it out, "I didn't tell you, but your father left something to you in his will. At my own suggestion."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"  
  
She nodded. "But first you must know the story behind it. Are you willing to listen?"  
  
He returned the nod and got comfortable.  
  
"A long time ago, there was a young man named Jeffery Wyndham-Price. He lived in London during the early nineteen hundreds. He was a successful young man, destined to be a Watcher."  
  
Wesley cringed, but the woman continued.  
  
"He attended the academy and passed with flying colors, but there was just something missing for him. He was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he was obsessed with the idea of finding true love. On his birthday, he was assigned a slayer by the name of Elizabeth. She was beautiful and strong and very clever. He immediately fell in love with her. She was his one true love in life. Even though it was not allowed, Jeffery and Elizabeth wed. Jeffery was fired by the council and took up a job in a bookshop." She paused for a minute.  
  
"Fired?" Wesley asked. This story was all too familiar.  
  
She nodded with a smile. "Yes, fired. He loved Elizabeth so much that he was willing to sacrifice everything for her. Everything in the world. He gave her a ring on their first wedding anniversary. It was beautiful. It held a large diamond in the center, two smaller sapphires on each side, then followed by two smaller diamonds. She loved the ring so much that she never wanted to part with it. Soon after their first child, Nigel Wyndham-Price, was born, Elizabeth was killed by a demon by the name of Hannahan. Her dying words were for Nigel to have the ring, then his son, and so on. It should only be passed on to one's true love. Nigel, your father, gave it to me. Now, Wesley, the ring is for you to give to your Winifred."  
  
She pulled a small violet box from her pocket and handed it to him. He flicked the latch and revealed the ring. He smiled. "She'll love it, Mother. She will."  
  
Mary Wyndham-Price laughed. "I know she will. And if you look closely, you can see the dark blue eyes of Elizabeth herself." She smiled and stood up, kissing his forehead. "You're all packed. Go. Surprise her."   
  
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "You packed me?"  
  
She nodded. "Go."  
  
***  
  
The sun in Los Angeles is hazy during the long May summers, but it is still hot. Wesley watched the sun set from the back of a slow-moving cab, fidgeting slightly. The Cabbie was foreign, as usual, and didn't understand what he meant by "ASAP." He sighed and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes.  
  
"Hyperion Hotel." The Cabbie announced. He asked for the fare in choppy English, which Wesley gladly paid as he climbed out and took his bags towards the entrance. He peered in through a window at the lobby. He couldn't see anyone but Gunn, who stood near his office. He watched as the tall man nodded and headed towards the basement stairs. Someone was in his office. Wesley checked around a little more and walked in, dropping his bags behind a pillar. He snuck quietly towards the office and peeked in.  
  
Fred ran a hand through her forever-long brown curly hair. She sighed and scrawled ever-so-neatly onto a piece of paper, checking a book every few seconds, as if translating. He smiled and tiptoed into the office, seeing how long it would take for her to notice.  
  
"Charles, I thought you --" Her eyes grew wide. "Wesley!" She looked frightened.  
  
He nodded and stepped towards her, closing the door behind him. "Shh, Love." He leaned down and kissed her as she sat behind the desk. "I see you've taken a liking to my desk. He grinned.  
  
"I...yes." She smiled and cleared her throat. "You weren't using it, so I thought I would."  
  
"Doesn't matter to me." He stood and walked to look out the windows of the office. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you, Fred. I mean, being in London, it was so lonely. Just my mother and I...that's something I've never had to live with, and being here with you --" He stopped as soon as he turned around.   
  
Fred was standing, one hand on her bulging stomach.   
  
"You...you're..." He whispered.  
  
She nodded. "We've got to talk." 


	11. A Twist of Fate

Chapter 11 - A Twist of Fate  
  
His eyes didn't leave her body. When he had left, she was a beauty, full of life. Now, she was almost equally beautiful, basking in a motherly glow, but her eyes held no soul. They were dark, empty shells of a life he once knew.  
  
Wesley cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Yes, I suppose we do."   
  
Fred directed him to a chair and sat behind the desk once more.   
  
"Wesley...I --"   
  
"You didn't tell me."  
  
"I was afraid -- "  
  
He stood up, pushing his chair backwards. "Afraid of what? Of me? That I would be disappointed? Fred," he ran a tense hand through his soft, curly, brown hair with a sigh, "you know me better than this. I love you. I'm willing to accept anything that you toss my way. Especially...this."  
  
Fred shook her head worriedly. "I'm sorry, Wesley." She began to cry.  
  
Wesley knelt in front of her, gathering her hands in his. "It's okay. It is. I'm overjoyed that I'm going to be a father. I was just telling my..." he trailed off, lifting Fred's hand to his face. Everything disappeared in that moment. He only heard the rising cries of his love. The one who wore a diamond ring on her left ring finger, one that he did not give to her. He twisted it slightly, a tear forming in his eye. The platinum band which accompanied the diamond simmered in the light. He looked up into those empty, bloodshot eyes with a weakly forced smile.  
  
"I'm sorry..." she whimpered.  
  
"No, Fred," he stood and wiped the tear from his face. "I'm the one who's sorry." Wesley turned and left the office. His eyes watched the ground beneath his feet expecting the delicate yet strong marble to fall away, leaving him to plummet to hell, the hell in which that he was already living.  
  
He hit a wall. A wall of solid flesh. Wesley looked up, his eyes red and watery.   
  
"Hey...what are you doing back?" Gunn asked, stepping backwards a few paces.  
  
"Oh...I just...decided to show up." Wes responded quietly. He removed his glasses and cleaned them to harness his anger.  
  
"I see. I'm sorry you couldn't make it to the wedding. Fred said you didn't have the time to make it." The taller man said.  
  
"Yes, London is quite a ways away." He placed the glasses back on his face and looked around. "Where is everyone else?"  
  
Gunn pointed at the office. "Fred's in there, Angel, Cordy, and Con are upstairs doin' their nocturnal thing."  
  
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Nocturnal thing?"  
  
***  
  
Angel tightened his hold on the slender body that rested beside him. He curled his fingers around her to rest on her stomach. He listened to her breathing, to her heartbeat. She was near the point of waking, for it was nearly night time.  
  
A tiny yawn sounded from nearby. Then a rustle of sheets.  
  
"Mommy?" Connor asked, rubbing his eyes with tiny balled fists. He stood up and held on to the rail that ran around the edge of his bed.  
  
Angel pulled his arm from around Cordelia and stood up slowly. "Shh...Mommy's sleeping." He pulled Connor from the bed and held him for a minute. "Isn't she pretty?" He whispered.  
  
Connor nodded and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, giving him a hug.  
  
Cordy rolled over with a smile. She brushed some stray hair from her face and yawned, covered by a white bedsheet. "I heard that."  
  
Angel put his son on the ground and crawled back into bed. He smiled and kissed Cordy's nose. "You were meant to."  
  
Connor's tiny feet carried him out of the room. Angel listened to the door shutting. He smiled. "Wow...he gets older every day." He smiled down at her.  
  
"Yeah, I know." She turned her head and stared at the door.   
  
He leaned down and kissed her neck with a grin.  
  
"Hey now..." Cordy pushed him off of the bed and pulled back the sheets. "You know the rules, Mister."  
  
Angel growled and stood up, stretching a moment before he walked to his closet.  
  
Cordy smiled and followed him to the closet, pulling a pair of jeans and a top from the basket of clothes in the bottom. "You know this is hard for me too."   
  
There was a squeal from downstairs. Angel stopped and looked at Cordy, then pulled his pants on quickly. He headed for the door and walked down the stairs at a quick pace, stopping halfway.  
  
"Wesley?"  
  
Cordelia sprinted towards Angel, almost knocking him down the steps. "Wesley?"  
  
Connor was in Wesley's arms, giving him a huge hug. "Uncle Wesley!" He squealed.  
  
Fred emerged from the office slowly, obviously having regained her composure.  
  
Wesley turned around and cautiously raised an eyebrow.  
  
Cordy rushed down the stairs and ran to Fred. "Fred, I told you to stay down. Why aren't you at home?"  
  
Fred smiled a little. "Someone had to translate that key." She sat down, taking a deep breath. "I really don't feel so well."  
  
Wesley put Connor back on the ground and walked towards Fred.  
  
"Yes, Fred...I do believe you should go home if you're not feeling well. It's bad for the baby to work while you're sick." He said, quietly.  
  
Fred looked in his eyes and nodded. "Okay." She stood up and walked towards the office.   
  
Fred gathered a few things, then became dizzy and took a seat in a nearby chair. She blinked a few times, holding the back of her hand to her head. After a sigh, she stood again, collecting her bag. She took another deep breath to keep her cool as she exited the office.   
  
Wesley's eyes followed her as she walked towards the exit.  
  
"I'll be home in a few hours, baby." Gunn told her, loud enough for Wesley to hear. His brown eyes shifted towards the young Englishman, then back to his wife.   
  
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Fred held onto a nearby pillar for support. She nodded towards Gunn, then looked again at Wesley. "You can have your office now...I cleaned...out...." Fred never finished her sentence. She dropped to the floor, falling down the small staircase that led to the lobby. 


	12. Careful Deception

Chapter 12 - Careful Deception  
  
Wesley tapped his foot nervously on the polished white floor of the hospital waiting room. He was alone in the room, Angel and Gunn had received a call about a Grecirial demon just as the squad arrived to pick up Fred, who was unconscious. Cordelia stayed at home to watch Connor, who had been sick lately. She wasn't about to expose her son to a hospital full of sick people. So, alone Wesley sat.   
  
An older man sat near him, reading a Time magazine. He noticed Wesley's nervousness and put the magazine down.   
  
"What you in here for, Partner?" The man asked.  
  
Wesley looked up, adjusting his glasses. "Oh...my...wife is pregnant and she had a fall." He blinked a few times before removing the troublesome glasses to clean them. He wondered why he had never opted for laser surgery or even contact lenses.   
  
The man nodded. "Your first?"  
  
"Yes." Wesley found himself smiling. "I just hope everything's okay."  
  
"Mr. Gunn?" Called a receptionist.  
  
His legs shook as he stood. "Yes?"  
  
"Doctor Anderson would like to speak with you about your wife's condition."   
  
"Good luck." The man whispered. He turned back to his magazine.  
  
***  
  
"Wow, man...you really beat that demon to hell." Angel said, lifting his favorite broadsword over his shoulder.  
  
Gunn nodded. "I guess I just have a little bit of tension to work out." His stone jaw was set in a determined frown. "I'm going to the hospital. You coming?"  
  
Angel shook his head. "I'm gonna head home." There was a silence for a few moments. "Is it Wesley?"  
  
The taller man nodded. "Yeah. He's in love with her." He gripped the axe tighter. "And I think she loves him."  
  
***  
  
"Your wife's condition is what is called pre-eclampsia. It's a disease that effects a small percentage of pregnant women during their first pregnancies. It consists mostly of dizzy spells, chronic dehydration, and a rise in blood pressure. We may have to hospitalize her for a while. If the condition continues to get worse, we will be forced to induce labor to put an end to her pain." The short, young doctor explained. She gave a smile of encouragement. "I really think that Winifred will be able to pull out of this. She seems to be strong."  
  
Wesley nodded, turning his eyes towards the open door of the hospital room. He saw a nightmare inside. Fred was hooked to beeping, buzzing, and odd machines. She was obviously asleep, but the rest didn't seem to be a comfortable one.   
  
He entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him. There was a chair next to the bed. Wesley sat down and took her delicate left hand.   
  
"Fred...you're going to have to stay here for a while. But I'll be here everyday, believe me. Even if I'm here with Gunn...I'll be here. Because I love you, Fred. And no one else can make me believe anything else. Not even you could make me believe any different." He leaned down to kiss her hand.   
  
Fred's eyes fluttered open and she squinted against the room's light. "Wesley?" She asked in a whisper.  
  
"I'm here, love." He squeezed her hand tighter.   
  
"Gunn?"  
  
Wesley shook his head. "No, he's not here."  
  
She let out a deep sigh of relief. "Wesley...I'm so sorry for what happened."   
  
"It wasn't your fault..."  
  
She nodded. "I married him."  
  
"Oh." He looked down at her hand again, remembering.  
  
"But I'm divorcing him."  
  
Wesley's watery blue eyes looked up. "You are?"  
  
She nodded. "He doesn't want me around anyway. He got mean after you left. He hits me sometimes. Not always...just every once and a while. He doesn't love me like you do." She reached up and stroked the side of his face with a smile.   
  
His face grew red with anger. "He hits you? I'll kill him."  
  
She sighed. "And he leaves all the time. I'll wake up in the middle of the night and he's gone. To another woman, I suppose."  
  
He usually wasn't a vengeful man, but Wesley was on the verge of finding Gunn and killing him on the spot. "I swear, Fred...I would never do anything like that to you. Ever."  
  
"I know," she whispered. She closed her eyes and laid her hands on her stomach as she began to drift off to sleep. "I love you."  
  
Wesley half-smiled. "I love you too." He stood and left the room, looking for the way out.  
  
"Mr. Gunn?" Called a nurse.  
  
Wesley paused and turned. "Yes?"  
  
"We did an ultrasound a few minutes ago...would you like to know the sex of your child?"  
  
His gaze softened. "Yes."  
  
The nurse smiled. "You're going to have a little girl, sir."  
  
A girl. Wesley grinned like a little school boy. "Thank you." He turned and headed for the exit.  
  
***  
  
"Do you have the papers?" Asked a voice from the shadows.  
  
The other dark shadow nodded and thrust a handful of papers in a manilla envelope towards the female, who was smoking a cigarette. The smoke curled up into intricate patterns and settled somewhere near the edge where light met dark.   
  
She grinned in the dark. "Thanks. I owe you." She leaned forward and kissed the man passionately. Her lips and fingertips were filled with lust as they walked over his body with a smile. The papers fell to the floor, containing valuable police evidence on a murder case. 


	13. A Minor Miscalculation

Chapter 13 - A Minor Miscalculation  
  
Mornings at the Hyperion were usually eventful. Cordy, Angel, and Connor were usually just heading off to bed, chasing the little naked boy around, trying to get him to put on his pajamas. Fred, Gunn, and Wesley would normally arrive at this time, leaving the family to their own business as they got to theirs. This particular morning, however, no one arrived.  
  
Wesley hadn't slept. His hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled. There was a slight bit of morning shadow across his cheeks and chin. He sipped the bland hospital coffee as he waited for the nurse to allow him into Fred's room. Another, slightly less discombobulated man sat across from him, also sipping weak coffee. The younger man's dark, piercing eyes drilled into him as he struggled to ignore the gaze.  
  
"How's your mom?" He asked.  
  
Quite surprised, Wesley responded, "She's well, thanks."  
  
Gunn nodded and shifted his gaze towards the floor.  
  
This time, it was Wesley's turn.  
  
"How'd Fred get that bruise on her shoulder?"  
  
Silence. Gunn looked up, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't know. Maybe when she fell."  
  
"It was there before she fell, Charles."  
  
Before he had a chance to respond, a nurse entered the waiting room.  
  
"You may see her now."  
  
They both stood, throwing away the empty coffee cups as they entered the room.  
  
The walls were painted with a cheery sage green color, which brought out the lavender flecks in the tiling that covered the floor.  
  
Wesley took a seat in his usual chair next to the bed as Gunn awkwardly looked around for his own place to sit. He finally took the window seat and watched from there.  
  
"Fred?" Wesley asked as he brushed some stray hair from her face.  
  
The soft brown eyes of his lover opened slowly. She smiled. "G'mornin'." She tried to sit up, but failed. She reached for the control to the bed which laid next to her. She was Gunn in the corner and froze, afraid. Wesley caught the expression and stroked Fred's free hand, which was hidden from her husband's view.  
  
"Good mornin', Charles." She said, quieter. She adjusted the bed and settled into it.  
  
Wes smiled and lifted a bag into her view. "Hospital food is terrible, and the nurses said you could have carry-ins."  
  
Fred returned the smile and took the bag. "Thanks."  
  
An eerie silence filled the room. All that was left was the gentle blip of the infant heart monitor.  
  
"Fred," Gunn piped up, tossing the bits of the shattered silence into the walls, "we need to think of some names."  
  
She nodded in reply as she took a bite from an Egg McMuffin.  
  
"What about..." he thought for a moment, acting as if the older man were no longer in the room, "Leila. My mother was named Leila. And if it's a boy, Charles Gunn Junior." He grinned with a boyish charm.  
  
Fred swallowed and took a sip of her orange juice. "I've always liked Anne myself. Or perhaps Michelle." She looked at Wesley with a slight grin. "What do you think?"  
  
Wes cleared his throat and shifted nervously, but smiled back, out of Gunn's view. "I suppose...I like the name Emily. Or Madeline, perhaps." He looked towards Gunn and hoped his expression wouldn't give him away. "But, it's not my decision."  
  
"So, we're all square that if it is a boy, it's gonna be my name, Charles, right?"  
  
Fred thought she noticed an over-exaggeration of the word "my". "Well, Charles, it is a girl." She smiled at him, but her eyes shifted over towards Wesley as Gunn became frustrated and looked out the window. "We're having a little girl." She smiled, gazing into her lover's eyes.  
  
Charles stood. "I'm going to go...fight something, be macho." He grinned falsely and gave Fred a mighty kiss before leaving. "You comin', English?"  
  
Wesley shook his head and patted the stack of books atop the nightstand next to him. "I brought all of my research. I think she could use a friend..."  
  
Gunn closed the door loudly on his way out.  
  
***  
  
Once the door was shut, Fred relaxed. She smiled at Wesley and placed her breakfast on the tray next to her. She raised an eyebrow quizzically.   
  
"Emily?" She asked.  
  
He laughed. "Michelle?"  
  
"Yeah, I knew that one would make him real mad. Just more proof that he's self-centered." She took a sip of her orange juice. "What do you really think we should name her?"  
  
Wesley shrugged. "Whatever strikes us when she's born, I suppose."  
  
Fred smiled and nodded in agreement. "I like that idea." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.  
  
***  
  
It was a little too quiet. Cordelia looked around the room, wondering what was keeping Angel. There was a soft scratching sound, followed by a bit of rustling, but she smiled as she looked down at her son. He colored a multi-colored group of people or animals. It was so hard to tell with Connor. She'd become his mother after she and Angel fell in love. It wasn't official as far as human law and the Los Angeles court system was concerned, but that didn't stop anything.  
  
The toddler had short, dark hair, similar to his father's, with icy blue eyes that tugged at your heart strings, remembering the last days of his mother. Fred had joked before about Connor looking more like Wesley than Angel, but when the child would smile, Father and son were nearly identical.  
  
Connor looked up, a grin spreading across his face as he held up a picture he had drawn.  
  
"Oh, very nice, Con. I think this can go on the 'fridge." She smiled. "Who's in the picture?" The picture was no more than a tangled mass of waxy, colorful lines which vaguely represented some sort of human shape.   
  
Connor giggled as he stood and pointed to one figure, slightly larger than the other.  
  
"Who's that?" Cordy asked.  
  
"Aunt Fwed." He scribbled a bit more, as if finishing a masterpiece. He added a bit of length to her long, brown hair. He also pointed to the bulge around the stomach. "See? Here's baby."  
  
His mother smiled. "And the other one? What's it doing?"  
  
He sighed. "Uncle Wesley. He's kissing her." He smiled and sat down, pulling another piece of paper from his backpack.  
  
"What?" She dropped the paper. "Connor Angel...where would you get such an idea?"  
  
He shrugged and didn't look up from his paper. "I saw them do it yestewday."  
  
"Where?"  
  
He looked up, crossing his tiny arms over his chest. "In Uncle Wesley's office. I play hide-seek with Uncle Lowne. I hide in office. I see them kiss." He cocked his head to the side and stood up, walking to his mother's chair. He placed his bitty hands upon the armrest and blinked a few times. "Aunt Fwed said Uncle Wesley was baby's daddy. What's that mean?"  
  
All Cordelia Chase could do was shake her head. 


	14. Don't Hesitate

Chapter 14 - Don't Hesitate  
  
Wesley sat once again in the waiting room, drinking from a cup full of tea that he had brought from home. The nurses were very polite in the way that they offered him some more of that coffee that tasted like tar, but Wesley was, afterall, a purebred Englishman.  
  
The head nurse emerged from Fred's room, carrying empty water glasses and a pitcher. She told Wesley to go on in.  
  
Fred's cheery face greeted him.  
  
"Hello there." She smiled, looking behind him for any sign of Gunn. "Coast clear?"  
  
"Yes, I believe it is." He sat next to her, placing a stack full of books and papers on the bedside table. "Are you sure you should be working in your condition?"  
  
Fred rubbed her stomach casually. "I'm sure she won't mind."  
  
He laughed as she picked up her Jeffery Deaver novel and placed a shorter stack of mythology, demonology, and criminology books by her legs, where it was easier to reach.  
  
***  
  
The young nurse pushed the cart down the tranquilly decorated halls of the second floor of the hospital. She frowned at her outfit: white nursing shoes and a set of scrubs with pastels splattered in the shapes of teddy bears throughout the ensemble.   
  
'Really', she thought to herself, 'did you have to pick the nurse with the worst fashion sense ever?' She continued pushing the cart until she stopped at room 118, Winifred Gunn's room. Taking a quick look around, the blonde nurse pulled up her mask and dropped the powdery white substance into the tall glass of orange juice. She placed the empty vial in her pocket and mixed the drink well before carrying the dinner tray into the room.   
  
"Here we are..." said the pretty nurse as she brought the tray to Fred.  
  
The young mother smiled. "Thanks," she looked up to meet with the woman's sparkling green eyes, a spark of recognition igniting in her memory. "Wait...have we met before?"  
  
The tall nurse stopped for a moment and looked at Wesley, then Fred.  
  
"Yes, I do believe I have seen you somewhere else also." Wesley removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt.  
  
Thoughts, no...excuses raced through her head. She tugged at the ill-fitting garments that she wore, which were short in comparison to her immense height. Her mother had always advised her to become a model when she was a child. "Well, I work around the hospital...usually in pediatrics." She smiled, "Maybe I've tended to your other little ones."  
  
Wesley re-placed his glasses upon his nose and blinked. He turned a slight pink color. "Oh...we...this is our first. But maybe on a visit with my nephew Connor."  
  
The nurse grinned and placed the tray in front of Fred. "Well, good luck with this one." She turned around, dropping something into Wesley's bag, which nobody noticed. She gently closed the door behind her as she left with the cart, rolling with a squeaky wheel down the hallway.  
  
Once she was safely out of the room, Wesley took a long look at Fred.  
  
She reached for her orange juice, remembering the doctor's insistence that she drink plenty of healthy fluids.  
  
Wesley reached up and stopped her hand. Fred turned and cocked an eyebrow in question.  
  
"Wait..."  
  
***  
  
The nurse pulled off her uniform and shook her long blonde hair from the ponytail which held it in confinement. She looked down at the unconscious nurse who laid on the sanitary floor of the broom closet.  
  
"Thanks, babes." She grinned and slung her purse over her shoulder as she headed out of the building.  
  
***  
  
Angel blinked in surprise.  
  
"Fred? Why would she do such a thing?" He shook his head.  
  
Cordy picked at a fingernail. "I know. It's not like her to do anything like that."  
  
He stood, pushing his chair backwards. "I knew she was in love with him, but..."  
  
"And you didn't tell me!?"  
  
"Well, it was kind of a secret, Cord. Sorry."  
  
She shook her head at him. "I just can't believe it." She laughed, "It's perfect."  
  
Angel grinned. "I know."  
  
She stood, approaching him. "Soon, Gunn will be out of the way, and we can all be happy."  
  
He nodded, wrapping a built arm around his lover's waist. "Finally." Angel reached over and pulled open the window shade, letting sunlight stream in though the window. 


	15. Facts of Life

Chapter 15 - Facts of Life  
  
"What, Wesley?" Fred asked, looking into his clear blue eyes, searching for an answer.  
  
"We've got to talk. About us."  
  
The room quieted, save for the quiet bleeps from the baby's heart monitor. "Okay."  
  
Wesley pulled the blue box from his pocket, but kept it concealed in his lap. "Fred, I want you to know that I love you dearly. Oh, so dearly. In England, my mother probably grew so sick of hearing my every word about you, but you were all I thought about. It's so hard to think about anything else when I've got my mind set on you." (Author's note: Now...you all knew that I *couldn't* resist.)  
  
Fred smiled nervously. "Well, thank you, Wesley. I'm so very flattered...and...I love you too." She dreaded what was to come, be it good news or bad. She closed her eyes for only a moment, taking a deep breath.  
  
"Winifred Anne Burkle...now that you know that I love you more than anything else in the world and that I will love this child of ours just as much...will you do me the tremendous honor of becoming my wife?"  
  
Fred opened one eye, then the other. She blinked a few times and took another deep breath. She nodded, a tear falling down her cheek.  
  
Wesley thought he could die. Just the thought of having Winifred as his for the rest of his life made all of the other things disappear. He pulled the ring from his lap and placed the sapphire treasure upon her finger after removing the existing wedding band and engagement ring. He put them in her hand. "Do whatever you want with this."  
  
She leaned over and kissed him gently, letting her tear-stained cheeks press against his. She pulled away slightly. "I love you, Wesley."  
  
He grinned and wiped away her tears. "I love you too." He stood up, planting another kiss on her cheek. "I've got some work to do. I'll be back soon, love." He pulled on his jacket and grabbed the file from the Fox case. He walked out the door as Fred lifted her glass of orange juice and downed it.  
  
***  
  
Wesley walked in the door of the Hyperion, throwing the file down on the counter. He headed for Angel's weapon cabinet and began taking out small daggers, crossbows, etc. Anything he could fit in his jacket. Last of all, he reached underneath his desk in his office and retrieved a loaded revolver, something he always kept around just in case.  
  
He took a trip up to Fred's old room and pulled back the bed. There, he found exactly what he was looking for. Amidst the scribbling of a formerly schizophrenic shut-in was the words he needed.  
  
In Fred's distinct handwriting, it read: "He did it. I know he did it. And I can't say anything about it. He'll kill me. He'll kill me. He'll kill me. Let me live, please. Let me live. Don't put me back in my hell....don't. In case I die, he hid the gun at 1576 Oak Street. 1576. It's a house. Don't let him kill me. Please, Wesley. Don't."  
  
Wesley nodded and closed his eyes. "I won't, Fred." He kissed his fingertips and placed them on the wall.  
  
***  
  
She felt dangerous. As dangerous as could be. Clarice sat inside the expensive Lexus, dressed all in black leather. She stuck a bit to the seat, but she didn't mind. She was waiting for her partner, who was gathering things at his house. She felt dangerous. Dangerous. Like she was falling in love with him. She'd never really been in love before, but she knew what it was now.  
  
The door opened and her partner sat down next to her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Ready?"  
  
She shivered slightly at the sound of his voice and nodded.   
  
"Remember, 1576 Oak. We've gotta get that stuff out of there." He scratched his chin. "Did you do what you were supposed to?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes. It'll kick in...well it may have already. She'll be dead before he has a chance to say goodbye."  
  
He grinned and turned the key in the ignition. He then ran his dark, chocolate-colored hand up the smooth contour of her leg, letting his fingertips rest for a moment where her leather skirt met her thigh.  
  
"Let's go." He said in a low whisper.  
  
She swallowed hard and nodded in agreement.   
  
***  
  
Wesley pulled his silver jeep to a stop in front of the dark house, eyeing it cautiously. In it's day, the house had probably been spectacular, one of the finer homes during the Victorian era. Now, the yellow paint flecked off of the rounded shingles which covered the exterior of the forgotten space. The darkness in the windows which were once so full of light cast an eerie shadow upon his heart. A sudden fear crept up over him, the feeling that he would never see Fred again, never get to see his daughter. He could almost imagine her face now, the spitting image of her mother. She laughed just like her and shared the same mannerisms, but her love for books, languages, and demonology were traits she carried from her father, a man who she would never meet. A tear rolled down his cheek. As it fell, he caught a glimmer of light in its slow descent to splatter on the steering wheel.  
  
Wesley drove, without headlights, around to the back of the house. He grabbed a flashlight and took up a hiding place in the cellar. The champagne-colored Lexus with black interior parked in front of the house. Out stepped a tall blonde woman, slightly familiar. Through the dusty window, he also saw a tall, dark figure climb from the car. It was him. A man whom he had trusted, with whom he had shared secrets. A man who was like a brother to him. Charles Gunn.  
  
Gunn walked up to the house, kicking open the already-broken door with ease. He stopped inside as if listening. Wesley stopped breathing until he heard footsteps above him.  
  
"What is it, baby?" Asked the woman. It clicked. Clarice. The widow. She was the one who was responsible for her husband's death. Yet, she had brought the case to Angel Investigations. Had Gunn been a part of it all along? Or was he just a last-minute addition to the escape plan?  
  
"Nothing," said Charles, as he headed up the stairs. Wesley too, walked slowly up the cellar steps, matching Gunn's footsteps. He hit the first floor and looked around. Above him, he heard more footsteps. Wesley looked around for some way to get upstairs without having to take another set of creaky steps. There was an old fireplace in the corner with a rope hanging down. He figured it was probably used by kids who hid in the house as a place to drink, smoke, and bring their girlfriends. Slowly, over shards of broken glass from ancient windows, Wesley tiptoed to the fireplace. He tugged twice on the rope to make sure that it was secure, then climbed up.   
  
It was times like these that he was thankful for his training at the academy. He was thankful for the council and their blessings upon him. He looked up, towards a bit of moonlight which trickled in through the chimney. As he looked down, he spied rats darting all around him, in and out of holes that they had chewed in the old walls of the dying house. It made him sad to know that the house was dying, and that one of the two men in this house would not be leaving alive. He heard whispers and stopped, allowing himself to hold footing on the wall for a brief moment as Gunn and Clarice talked quietly to one another. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but he caught the gist of it.  
  
"Do you remember, Chuckie?"  
  
"Don't call me Chuck. You know I hate that." He kicked a rat against a wall. It squealed loudly.  
  
"Don't you remember our first time? It was right here. Six years ago, Gunn. A long time before you married that bitch." She stepped closer towards him. "Why did you marry her? Why not me?"  
  
"Because...it was an easy way to infiltrate the gang...be initiated, y'know? Plus, that British bastard knocked her up and ran. You can't leave a pregnant woman all alone, now can you?" He laughed and there was a loud thump, then some glass trickling.  
  
Wesley took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. He wasn't usually angry, but when it came to accusing him of leaving the woman he loved, it was too much. He attempted to calm himself.  
  
"I think it's sweet. He loves her. Oh well...she'll be dead in a few hours. Her and that baby." Clarice said with a sigh. "What do you think? Should we have one after we run away?"  
  
He laughed again. "Why? I don't need a kid. Plus, you're so dumb you wouldn't know the first thing about being a mom. Just stick to what you do best, baby."  
  
His heat stopped. Dead? Wesley climbed up a bit higher and peeked over the edge of the fireplace. He couldn't see anyone and realized that the talking must have been coming from the next room. He pulled himself up, silently. He had to kill Gunn and find out how to save Fred. He looked around, reaching for the gun in his jacket. Next to him was some more glass. A few beams of moonlight fell in through the windows.   
  
Wesley froze as the cold metal barrel of Gunn's automatic was pressed to the side of his head.   
  
"Hey there, English...decide to join the party?" 


	16. Always the Last

Chapter 16 - Always the Last  
  
Clarice laughed from the side of the fireplace and stepped forward. "Now...do you really think we didn't know you were here?"  
  
Gunn smiled as he stepped in front of his former friend, the gun still pressed to the side of his head. "Oh, poor Fred..." He sniffled and made a sad face for effect. "She was in on it too...but now she's gonna die."  
  
Clarice cackled evilly. "With that massive amount of morphine that I slipped into her drink...she and that baby of yours are probably goners already."  
  
Wesley's mouth fell open. The nurse. Clarice was posing as the nurse and drugged Fred. Oh...Fred...  
  
"Now, English...why you mackin' on my woman like that, huh? You know I was all up on that. You can't just go away and let her be mine?" A tear fell down Gunn's cheek. "I really loved her, man. I love Winifred. And you took her away. I should kill you right here and now."  
  
Clarice glared at Gunn. "You what?"  
  
He looked over at the young blonde. "Oh shut up, Clarice."  
  
Her jaw dropped. "No! I give you everything, and you say that you love her? What is that?"  
  
He turned the gun on her. "I said, SHUT UP!" The gun fired and Clarice fell back against a wall, sliding down slowly. She left a red streak along the faded green wallpaper.   
  
Wesley took the opportunity to kick Gunn in the back of the head. He stumbled, but held firmly to his weapon. With a grunt, he swung backwards with it, trying to pistol whip Wesley, but the older man ducked just in time. Wes pulled his own gun and pulled Gunn's arm behind his back. Charles let go of the gun as Wesley twisted his arm painfully. The young man fell to his knees.  
  
"Okay...I'm sorry. I'm sorry...I didn't kill her, alright? It's just something that we were going to say to upset you." Gunn ducked his head. "We didn't hurt anyone...we're just trying to scare you..."  
  
Wesley shook his head and pressed the end of the revolver into the back of Gunn's skull. He gestured towards Clarice. "I don't think so. She looks awfully dead to me, Charles."  
  
Gunn looked up at the dead blonde, his eyes closing slowly. "Tell Fred I'm sorry." With one quick movement, he stood up from his knees, knocking Wesley backwards. Wesley hit the wall, almost falling back down the chimney. He gained his balance, but dropped the gun down the hole. It hit the ground with a loud clank, hitting the glass below. He looked up to see that Gunn had regained the advantage. He was pointing the gun directly at his chest, walking forward slowly.  
  
"And tell her...that I truly did love her...until she fucked you."   
  
A gunshot rang out, a body hit the floor. Blood mingled with that of Clarice, the dumb blonde who never should have gotten involved with that dangerous man. She hadn't felt dangerous after all. She had felt that her life was in danger. And it was. He killed her. The man who she had trusted had fallen in love with her.   
  
Wesley opened his eyes slowly, swallowing hard. He took a deep, shaky breath as the moonlight began to fade into sunlight. The day was coming. A new day. He exhaled slowly and looked across the room. Near Clarice's body stood Angel. He lowered his gun and nodded at Gunn.  
  
"Never trusted the guy." Angel smiled and put the gun away as he crossed the floor to help his friend. Wesley cautiously took his hand and stepped over the dead body of a man he once knew. "Let's get out of here before the cops show up." But Wesley beat him to it.   
  
"I'm going to the hospital...I'll explain it to you later!"  
  
***  
  
Wesley floored the accelerator on his vehicle, going at least thirty miles over the speed limit. He had to get there as fast as he could. Just as a precautionary step, he put on his hazards. He wove in and out of traffic like a madman, praying for the life of his fiancee and their child. As he put the car in park, was already jumping out of the vehicle. He ran to the elevator, frantically pressing the button to go up to the second floor. It wasn't going fast enough. He looked around and saw the stairs, then bolted through the door. Wesley took the stairs two at a time, making sure that he would get there in time to save his loved one. His breath was ragged and heavy as he ran towards her room.  
  
There was an eerie silence in the hallway. Wes rounded the corner and looked down the hall towards Fred's room. There was a lone nurse at the station and her room was closed. Wesley sprinted for the door and flung it open to find it empty.  
  
"Where is she? Where the hell is she?" He yelled at the nurse, who was standing, trying to calm him down.  
  
"Mr. Gunn..."  
  
"I'm Mr. Wyndham-Price, her fiancee...please, where is Fred?" He panted.  
  
The nurse lowered her eyes to the floor and nodded. "I'm sorry, sir..."  
  
"No...no..." Wesley shrank down to the floor, curling up in a ball. "No...please..."  
  
The nurse looked down at him, cocking her head to the side. "Sir, she's been moved. She's in the ICU. Apparently someone drugged her..."  
  
He stood up. "She's alive? What about our baby?" He stepped closer to her, supposing that he appeared to be a madman at the moment, covered in soot from a hundred-year-old fireplace and splattered with the blood of a dead man. His hair was tousled and his glasses broken from the blow that Gunn gave him shortly before he was shot. "Please, ma'am...could you tell me where they are?"  
  
"Sir, calm down. Your fiancee is in the Intensive Care Unit. The child is in the NICU. She's going to have to stay there for a few months...we had to give your fiancee a c-section to save them both." She pointed to the elevator. "Take that to the third floor."  
  
"Thank you!" He ran to the elevator, which opened up. He waited semi-patiently for the people inside to leave, then rushed in, heading for the ICU.  
  
A nurse waited at the front desk of the ICU. Wesley approached him quickly, probably still looking like a mess. "Excuse me, sir...I'm looking for a Winifred Gunn?"  
  
The nurse checked his records and nodded. "Yes...umm...are you family?"  
  
He frowned. "I'm her fiancee...her husband's dead."  
  
The nurse took a look at him and nodded. "It works. I don't know that you are prepared to see her, sir...she's in a coma. She won't be able to respond to you. That was a big dose of morphine that someone gave to her. Do you know who could be responsible for this accident?"  
  
Wesley was in shock. His Fred...in a coma. He took a deep breath and caught himself from falling on the desk. "Yes, I know who's responsible for it. He's dead. He's her husband."  
  
"Sir, I'm going to call the police. If you'll just stay right here..."  
  
Wes stole the clipboard from the nurse's desk. He found where Fred was and rushed in the doors.  
  
"Security, we have a problem...we have a possible psychopath in the building, please respond to the ICU immediately!" Screamed the nurse over the phone.  
  
Wes rushed toward Fred's bed. She sat silently, hooked up to a dozen or so machines. "No...Fred...please, no." He sat next to her and placed his head in his hands. "Live for me. Live for her, please." He took her hand in his and cried on it.  
  
Security arrived, pulling Wesley away from his fiancee's nearly lifeless body. He screamed and kicked, reaching for her. "No! Fred!" The doors to the ICU closed as Fred's monitor flat-lined. 


	17. Sunlight

Chapter 17 - Sunlight  
  
The organ music in the church played solemn hymns. The attendants of the funeral wept together, even though there were only a few. They sang sad songs of woe, mourning the lost one. The one who had died so young. Those who were not in attendance, were his old friends from Angel Investigations. They had more important things to do.  
  
The sunlight was warm and friendly on that day. Los Angeles was wonderful in the fall. It was a nice 72 degrees with a light breeze. Angel smiled up at the sun, grateful for every new day that he could spend in it. Connor giggled and ran for his father, hugging him around the legs tightly.   
  
"I love you, Daddy." He said, muffled slightly by Angel's pantleg.  
  
"I love you too, Con." Angel picked him up, swinging him over his head. The two laughed together as they played in the peaceful park.  
  
Cordelia Angel sat in the shade underneath the tall oak trees of the Harrison Memorial park. She smiled at the sight of her husband and son, finally able to play together. It had been three months since Angel had discovered his new gift of humanity. Something that had been granted to him by TPTB. His good deeds in 'helping the helpless' bought him a ticket straight into mortality. While his wife was still part demon, she was scoring a few brownie points with the powers as well. She was working with them to put an end to evil world powers such as Wolfram and Hart. Last week, she had peacefully killed three demons who were on assignment to capture her son, Connor. She also had a hand in killing Charles Gunn, a serial killer who was killed three months ago.   
  
Back in the day, before he joined his gang, he had been a murderer on the East Coast known as James Miller. He changed his name and moved to LA in search of sanctuary among a band of misfits, including a de-fanged vampire, an ex-watcher, and a valley girl. Ever since the ex-watcher's discovery of the Shanshu prophecies, Charles had been itching for the prophecies to come true. As a vampire, Angel was too tough to kill, but he knew that if the vampire became mortal, he could finally kill him and earn a rather large bounty. But, the fang gang got to him first and put an end to his reign of anger, betrayal, and murder.  
  
"Liam" Angel and Cordelia Chase were married a month after the murder of Charles Gunn. The two want to have more children, but are waiting until the powers decide the fate of Cordelia's demon side.   
  
***  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Price pushed the pale pink stroller casually down the sidewalk in the middle of the park, heading for the fountain in the center. He looked around quietly at the trees, the birds, the sunlight. He took a deep breath of the fresh fall air and sat down on a nearby bench. After turning the stroller to face him, Wesley smiled down at the contents inside. A tiny baby girl, newly released from the hospital, was asleep in the shade of her visor. She squirmed a little, letting her light brown curls bounce up from under the weight of her tiny head. She let out a little whimper and blinked a bit, opening her eyes. She looked up and frowned at her father, as if trying to recognize this stranger. She then grinned and giggled a little bit as he picked her up. Her blue eyes blinked against the sunlight, then adjusted.   
  
Wesley smiled and looked into her eyes.   
  
"You look so much like your mother. You've got her beauty. You're lucky. But you've got the Wyndham eyes." He grinned proudly and placed her on his shoulder as he walked towards the fountain. He sat her on his lap. She wasn't old enough yet to hold herself up, but that doesn't mean she didn't try. She struggled a bit until her father leaned her up against his arm. She watched the swirling waters of the fountain in amazement, making tiny baby sounds of joy as she watched.  
  
Wesley smiled, watching his daughter. Nothing in the world brought him more joy than her. The first time he ever saw her was two weeks after her birth. She was eight weeks early and her size showed it. She was no bigger than his forearm, but her bright blue eyes shined at him. They recognized him immediately. Wesley had just been released from jail after he was cleared for the murder of Charles Gunn. It seemed that the prints they had found on the gun matched that of a man who had died nearly a thousand years ago in Ireland. Strange how things work out that way. The mystery of the murder was never solved, but the AI gang knew.  
  
A pair of delicate hands touched Wesley's shoulders.   
  
"Hey, how's my two favorite people in the world?" A soft voice with a Texan accent asked.  
  
Wesley turned around and smiled at his wife. "We're fine. Just watching the fountain." He grinned and patted the spot next to him. He then handed his daughter to her.  
  
"Amelia...look here, Amelia. Hey, Amelia Rose...look at Mommy." Fred said softly.  
  
Amelia turned and smiled a big, toothless grin at her mother.   
  
Every day, Wesley thanked God for the way things worked out. But, like a wise woman once said, "I guess you never can predict those things." 


End file.
